


Lost Opportunity

by its_mike_kapufty



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [12]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Arguing, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29548206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty
Summary: Rhett's tired, his back hurts, and he's pretty sure he'll be sunburnt for a week. Why the hell would Link put him up to a scavenger hunt, anyway?
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Tumblr Ficlets [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170695
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Lost Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> For the one-word prompt "lost."

_Okay. I’m finally here. Where are you?_

Rhett sends off the text and lifts his gaze to the inappropriately bright cemetery. At least back in North Carolina, the sky had the good sense to be cloudy whenever they met up in the graveyard. Not here in LA, where each rest marker was hot enough to fry bacon. He should’ve brought sunglasses. Or wore sunscreen. Or both. He _would’ve,_ had he known how long this would take.

_I’m here, too. Been waiting. I don’t see you. Are you near the pond?_

With a bemused snort, Rhett looks around again. There’s no pond. There _is_ a fountain by the front gate in the distance, past the drooping wisteria blooms and moss-caked memorials.

_You mean the fountain?_

_No, Rhett. The pond. If I’d meant fountain, I would’ve said fountain._

It’s meant teasingly, but Rhett’s fresh out of good humor. _I don’t see a pond,_ he responds bluntly. 

Frankly, he’s done.

The scavenger hunt had been Link’s birthday gift to him, and normally, such an adventure would’ve been welcomed under the assumption that Link would come with him. But no–he’d been tasked to do this alone, running all over Los Angeles, trying to solve clues sent via text from his best friend. A lot of thought had gone into it, sure–like when Link had made him spell ‘pier’ using certain letters from a craft beer menu at a brewery they’d become fond of recently–but it was hot and getting late, and Rhett’s back was screaming for reprieve. He was thoroughly exhausted.

_I mean… I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but are you sure you’re at the right place?_

Rhett presses his lips thin, has to calm himself before responding.

_I’m at Whispering Wind Cemetery._

_Oh. No, that’s not the right one. But you’re close! Name-wise. Not geographically, unfortunately. Bout twenty minutes away._

That’s Rhett’s last straw. Fingers fly, punching out a reply.

_I’m done. Thanks for the ‘gift’ of making me run all over the city today. I’d at least appreciate some gas money as compensation tomorrow._

When Rhett’s phone starts ringing, he answers without hesitation, ready to come to verbal blows.

“Rhett, what the hell? I’m here with your present, you’re almost at the end! Since when do _you_ give up?”

“Since it took me six goddamn hours to finish this, Link! I’m tired, I’m hungry, I just want to go home.” When Link doesn’t jump in, he continues. “Why in the hell would you send me to some random cemetery, anyway? This isn’t Buies Creek! It doesn’t _mean_ anything here, it’s not the same!”

When Link’s words come through frail and backed down, Rhett’s stomach churns. “I–I just… thought it would be nice. Would be good enough.”

Rhett shifts, scratching his nose with his free hand before planting it on his hip. He lowers his irritation, trying to speak calmly. “Good enough for what, Link?”

“For your birthday present.” It’s quiet.

Sighing, Rhett bites his lip. “And why couldn’t you have just given it to me at the office? Or, I dunno, at one of the five restaurants I drove to today?”

“I… I thought you’d like it if our first kiss was memorable.” The admission is barely audible, but it clamps Rhett’s heart hard enough to shatter it. “That’s okay, though. Sorry. I–”

“Link, wait, hang on a second,” backtracks Rhett, feeling every bit the ass he is as he imagines his partner waiting by a pond under a willow tree, prettied up in a button-up shirt, pressed pants, and polished shoes. That bow tie that Rhett loves on him. Eyes bright with joy and the sun in his peppered hair and that infectious grin as he jogged over to hug him. “Shit. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right. Stupid. Dumb idea.” Rhett can hear the way he’s nodding, can practically see the forced smile when he finishes, on the verge of tears, “I’ll let you go. Sorry for today. Happy 42nd, bo.”

The call ends. 

Rhett curses and rotates to his map app to search for cemeteries twenty minutes away with a name similar to _Whispering Wind_. Maybe it’s not too late.


End file.
